


Obliterate Me the Moon

by EikoWest



Category: Dragon Ball Z, Original Work
Genre: A Mary-Sue Fic, Can Be Whatever You Want It To Be, Everything Is Ambiguous/Unnamed, Gen, Ideologically Sensitive, Not Edited Nor Beta Read, Self-Insert Or Existing Fandom Character, Story #41, Sublimation/Cathartic Piece, Tragedy Or Whatever The Opposite Of Tragedy Is, Very Much Open To Interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EikoWest/pseuds/EikoWest
Summary: “You can not escape what you know for you are sensible. You dream and you know it because you are wide awake. Anything you can imagine with all your heart is real. That’s about as real as real gets. A thing could exist in every boxed-in normal sense right in front of you, and still, never be as real.”
Relationships: Mary-Sue | (Ambiguous/Unnamed Character)/Piccolo Daimaoh Jr | (Ambiguous/Unnamed Character), Son Gohan Jr/Piccolo Daimaoh Jr (Optional)
Kudos: 2





	1. Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> This can be taken as a fanfiction or as an original work, depending on the character you assume when you read it: it can be Mary-Sue or Son Gohan Jr or whoever you want it to be, really. Take it however way you feel it works for you. This is almost raw, posted as it was written, with almost no edits, so… It's crude.

There are many “Mary-Sue”s in this world.

All have something in common.

Some are a little less ordinary than others

**-x-**

My story began when I was eleven years old. An odd place to begin, you might think, but they say I had a terrible accident and lost all my memories of everything before that. That’s all they would tell me. I don’t even remember this “accident” they speak of; they say forgetting isn’t so bad, that sometimes it can even be a blessing. The important thing was that I was alive and that I could rebuild a life from that point on. There was no need to revisit the past.

They say that, but it was weird not remembering who you are—were. Every time I do anything I wonder if it was something I used to do before… _Did I really like apples or was I more of an orange-person? Did I always like dragons in books I read over people?_

Then there were things I was sure I liked, like the colour green… But I still felt lost because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember why… Often, I try to recall my life before that—to remember—anything at all… But nothing ever comes back to me. All I ever remember…

Is the moon.

Big and golden and so mesmerizing…

_Until it shatters into a million pieces…_

The image was impressed in me so strongly that I hung on to it, for it was the only remnant of my past.

And then, inevitably…

I grew up. Or, you could say, my body did. My heart however, never quite caught up.

I didn’t find others appealing. I never have. I never questioned myself. I knew perfectly well why. They just weren’t interesting enough. They made me feel trapped and boxed-in. They never made me feel free enough. Every time I had to spend time around others, they would always make me feel uncomfortable one way or another.

I hated feeling uncomfortable. It’s like holding your breath and forgetting that you need to let it out, or suck it in to not die. I heard a protagonist in a _manga_ once say that ‘knowing’ is very different from ‘doing’. That people know what to do, but don’t always do what they know (or something like that).

Knowing you’re supposed to breathe to stay alive does not help the fact that there are so many—too many—things in our life that is just as detrimental to us as not breathing at all, and yet…

We do what kills us—or don’t do what we need to stay alive, all the same.

Humans have a tendency to lose track of what really matters, and what they know. They just do what everyone else is doing, even if it means dying a little bit, everyday; in the dumbest, most pointless way.

Take love, for instance. Love is a perfect example of something people have long forgotten and disassociated with what it truly stands for. They _know_ what it is, yet they never “do” it.

Everyone has reinvented their own meaning of it, and redefined words to make it fit what they want it to be. Whatever is most convenient for them to believe; to hide whatever it is they don’t want to see.

Reality is no different. People are so proud of what they think they know, but what they know is not always what is is real.

For someone who has forgotten everything that once was, I know only of one love and one reality. Love isn’t what we see or speak or read or hear.

Love is what we feel.

And what we feel…

Is what’s real.

  
  


_Everything else is an illusion._


	2. Feel

How do you know what’s real? You listen, not with your ears, but with your heart. But in actuality, the figurative heart is but a figment of everyone’s delusional mind. There is no heart; only the mind. So if the heart is really just another more mysterious department of our mind, then it is perfectly rational; those who don’t think so, simply have not learned its unique and very special language. That heart is misinterpreted in so many ways, because oftentimes, it is translated with a fake Rosetta stone.

The big black holes left in my mind punched out along with my past have its advantages; I have more room to think, and I have spent a lot of time studying how that heart functions, why it is linked to the actual heart, and what language it speaks, etcetera. It does not use logic, nor does it use words. Its rationale is not based on any of the aforementioned but something more abstract; it follows its own order, not the order of the waking universe. It works more like dreams. Dreams do not need reason nor rhyme—dreams don’t need to make sense, but our mind perceives them as reality all the same.

My metaphorical heart has responded quite well to this scrutiny and has shown me many things—things the real waking world would never understand. For one, it has shown me the true face of my guardian angel. An angel unlike any angel anyone has ever seen…

Angels need not have feathery wings and shiny halos and white tunics or even skin of any familiar colour we know of. Angels… They come in whatever shape and size and colour we need—provided that our hearts _know_ what we need and that we are willing to acknowledge that need. Everything depends on what we know from our own hearts (it’s important not to forget).

If we only know what others know to be true, the faces of our guardian angels will have the face of their needs. But as I have observed, most people would rather copy someone else’s reality than bravely face theirs… Would rather have the familiar face of everyone else’s guardian angel, than see what their hearts really want them to see… The face of what they actually need.

I always think myself fortunate. The accident when I was eleven woke me up from that spell. Where I see everyone frantically scrambling to fit into the next person’s reality, so afraid of sticking out from the rest—

Reality—or at least, what everybody else’s reality dictates reality should be—has never been _my_ reality. Not since then… When I saw the full moon explode into nothingness.

_‘How can the moon exploding be real? You can see for yourself, there is a moon.’_

_‘Yes, there is. But what if that is a false moon in a false reality?’_

_‘Oh, child! I don’t know what to do with you! Ever since that accident…’_

_‘—Ever since that accident, what?’_

_‘I don’t know… You have been acting strange. So unlike yourself.’_

So unlike everyone else, is what you mean, right?

_‘It’s like you are a completely different person…’_

Or perhaps, you are all asleep, and I have simply awakened.

The things that everyone else finds so hard to believe—so hard to grasp? That’s my reality.

And I never want to go back to sleep again like all the others are.


	3. Love

Sometimes I am afraid to sleep. I keep fearing for what transpires around me while I slumber with eyes closed. _What if I wake up back in that place where everyone is asleep?_ What if I never wake up to that reality of the moon and that brilliant explosion?

_What if my heart forgets._

I have only seen my guardian angel in my dreams but I know in my heart that what I see and hear and feel is real. My guardian angel is aloof and elusive like dreams themselves, but I always chase after the vestiges of that magnificent creature all the same.

Before tonight, I always knew it was never meant to be – for me to catch up to the dream. I knew in my heart that you weren’t supposed to see guardian angels, and I also knew in my heart why I finally saw mine.

I was chasing after the spectre once again. My feet didn’t drag me down this time. It lifted me off the ground and I soared with the wind, down from a height and around the corner of a building into a dead end. Suddenly, I’m in the middle of a breathtakingly high escarpment.

My breath came in short scratchy inhales even if I knew that my gravity-less glide required no physical exertion. Then I see it.

Whiteness all around but not the feathery kind; eyes as deep and still and shimmery as a fathomless ocean; and skin the colour of unadulterated nature. This creature took notice and blinked up at me from the very edge. It wasn’t a look of surprise nor fear; I was relieved for that…

I grew more breathless still as I beheld the majestic form straighten up to full height as it unfurled from its crouched position.

It was _you_.

This creature—you… were like a tree, with the seemingly alive parts of your grab fluttering freely in the breeze, eyes of unfathomable deep ocean blues looking straight at me.

“It is time, isn’t it.” I said.

My lips curled up stiffly at the edges in what I hoped to convey as a smile. I was stunned stupid in your wild splendour. You were even more beautiful than I remembered. Everywhere of every part I looked of you filled my soul completely, it was like taking the first real breath of my whole life—you simply filled me with inexplicable happiness, my eyes filled with unshed tears.

“You’re really here…” I exhaled slowly. “I’m glad.”

“Yes. You are ready,” you said. But the words seemed to come from somewhere inside of me instead of your lips. Your voice, like the sweetest song.

“I know I am asleep right now. Yet, I also know that you are real. If this is a dream, do not tell me. I do not wish to know it.”

“You can not escape what you know for you are sensible. You dream and you know it because you are wide awake. Anything you can imagine with all your heart is real. That’s about as real as real gets. A thing could exist in every boxed-in normal sense right in front of you, and still, never be as real.”

“Just like…” I paused. Making sure I had memorized every word off your lips, even if they did not move. I repeated them in my mind until they echoed in my heart. “…Just like, how the people from the other side are to me. Empty husks filled with useless, pretentious things…”

You nodded ever so slightly.

I smiled even as a tear finally rolled down my cheek. It was pointless to try and hide it, I knew more would come.

“I don’t like them. I don’t like them at all. They tell me I can’t love you…”

Your brows go up expectantly.

“…Because you aren’t real… To them.”

“Stupid opinions are nothing but that: stupid opinions.”

“…They don’t have to be real,” I whispered.

_“Exactly._

_“…Their world, does not have to be your world.”_

“ _Their world, does not have to be mine…_ ” I repeated slowly, feeling the weight of each word in my heart. Breathing it in like my life depended on it. (I knew it did.)

I looked up at you. And I feel the walls crumbling…

“I love you! I love you because you are love. Because love is real. And because nothing is more real to me than you.”

You just looked at me with those innocent but discerning eyes. You say nothing. But I know you hear me. You understand.

“…I don’t want to wake up in the other side anymore.”

“Yet you know you have to. In order for you to stay here with me. Forever.”

I nodded and laughed, even as I cried harder. Even as I felt the cracks in my literal heart ache and bleed. It was impossible to be any happier at that moment.

“Then I shall gladly go back…”

_So that I can be where you are._


	4. Dream

I could not wait to be with you, even if I did not want to relive that day of my life. I forced myself to think of the dream that was waiting for me when I finally embraced it. It was excruciating, there was pain and blood everywhere, and like a star that burned brightest right before it’s extinguished of life, my literal heart was beating so fast, and yet so slow. All around me the light began to fade…

And then when I opened my eyes again, everything was too bright that I had to squeeze my eyes shut again. I could not think of anything but finally crossing over but I knew I wasn’t quite there yet… Even if you were just barely out of my reach…

I knew dying takes patience.

There were people surrounding me, but they were blurry and distant. I was careening down a dark tunnel only to get wedged in this transitional conscious state. And I found myself suspended in a hypnagogic limbo…

…

“Why are you crying?”

It’s mid afternoon, school is out and my eleven-year-old self is by the pavement at the edge of the road. My knees are badly scuffed and my uniform all dirtied. You sit next to me, and I don’t question it. I throw myself at you, arms wrapped around you, so badly craving the comfort of your embrace.

“It’s… It’s because… Someone said something very mean about you today.”

I felt your fists ball up at my back where your arms had confined my small form. You try not to let it show but I feel your body tense beneath mine.

“I know… T-that it doesn’t have to be real.” I sobbed somewhat incoherently. “But… it just… hurts… _a lot._ Not because I believe them… But because they’re idiots… And I just know how—how wrong they are about you!”

You let me cry for a while. I try not to but fail.

“If you cry… You are making them real.”

That was enough to halt my sobbing. I blink up at you with bleary eyes and a runny nose.

_Everything just hurts so badly, I can’t breathe._

“I’m so sorry…! I just… I hate them for their blindness! They can’t—will never be able to see what you truly are… It’s because they have never seen angels!”

You run a taloned thumb across my cheek, catching a few more tears that rolled down. The pad of your finger lingers on a large bruise atop my cheekbone. Your gentleness so sharply contrasting the violence that brought it about. I sniffle a few times, trying to be braver…

_I know it won’t be long now…_

“Don’t cry now… Raise your Ki and build a force field around your heart. Never let them in. That place is reserved only for the ones you hold dearest.”

“…Like you.”

“Like me.”

I rest my head on your chest, revelling in the sound of your heartbeat. The world around me slowly fades into a deafening lull.

_“I love you… so much…”_

You say nothing. Though I can feel it. You are hurting too. You have suffered so much and you have never once complained. I wanted to stay there and hold you for a bit longer, but I’m being pulled away from the dream…

_I promise… I won’t let them hurt you anymore. I’ll keep you safe. Here, in my heart. I’ll make you a house with a beautiful garden where you can dream beautiful dreams all day… I’ll protect your happiness no matter what the cost._

_‘Do not worry about me. I am only as happy as you are happy.’_

_Then I shall be happy. No matter what._

I don’t see them coming. But I knew they would. I knew I should have kept running away after I managed to bite and kick and scratch them but I didn’t. I made up my mind: I will fight for you. Even if it costs me my life!

I was on my feet so fast, they were taken aback. I wasn’t going to back down. You deserved to exist in my heart so much more than this trio of bullies deserved to live.

_They aren’t real._

That’s what I kept telling myself as get kicked and punched to the ground.

_I’ll keep you safe._

A shaky smile crept into my lips as I felt the light fading from my vision. I curled my arms around my chest to protect my heart.

I was numb by the time I felt them shove me hard directly into the path of an oncoming car.

I don’t even feel the impact as it hits and I roll several metres away until everything is still and I feel the life ebbing away from my battered body.

I close my eyes, and that’s when I see it:

_The splendid sight of the full moon…_

_Big and golden and so mesmerizing—_

_Just before it shatters into a million beautiful pieces._

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this firstly from a Mary-Sue perspective; then secondly, as a character heavily influenced by Gohan. The other character, however, was definitely inspired by Piccolo Daimaoh Jr.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This work was inspired by characters of **Dragon Ball Z** which belong to their respective owners. This original work, however, is © 2020 EikoWest. Please do not take, use, or copy (in part or whole) without my knowledge and permission. Cheers!
> 
> * * *
> 
> (2016/06/13-2020/06/13)


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